


Yellow Rainflower

by 0_yngve



Series: Lavender [5]
Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Alcohol, Attempted Abortion, Autistic Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Awkwardness, Childbirth, Children, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Congenital Disability, Congenital Illness, Disability, Disabled Character, Disabled Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Drinking, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Original Character(s), Physical Disability, Post-Book 9: Sent i november | Moominvalley in November, Single Parent AU, Single Parent Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Snufkin Rude, Snufkin runs away from his problems, Trans Pregnancy, Trans Snusmumriken | Snufkin, after an hour of research I’ve decided to Ignore the iron curtain, discussions of abortion, herbal abortions don’t always work guys, it’s a bathing scene, kinda angsty, no one gets drunk though, non-sexual nudity, parenting, theres a brief childbirth scene in chapter one but its short and nongraphic, theres one really vague reference to sexual assault in chapter four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0_yngve/pseuds/0_yngve
Summary: He was going to be a father, someone with lifelong obligations and a child: a child to feed and clothe and raise and teach and look after. By the stars, he was barely grown himself!
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snorkfröken | Snorkmaiden, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Snusmumriken | Snufkin & Aliisa | Alicia (Mumintroll), Snusmumriken | Snufkin & Moomins OC, Snusmumriken | Snufkin & Sisu (Moomins OC)
Series: Lavender [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798096
Comments: 22
Kudos: 38





	1. Clarens, Graz, Schiltach, Zalipie

**Author's Note:**

> So this takes place in a divergent timeline post- Moominvalley in November. I mention in Ginger Tea and Parsley Oil that Snufkin had a brief relationship with a tulippen resulting in a pregnancy and an abortion. This is an AU in which the abortifacient doesn't work.  
> ___
> 
> Rated Teen for language seen in later chapters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About how things got here

“It won’t hurt?” Snufkin rolled the pouch of dried herbs between his paws, releasing the pungent scent into the air.

“You’ll feel some cramping, and will bleed a little, but nothing dissimilar to what you feel every month.”

Snufkin dug into his pocket and pulled out the meager cash he nipped on the train. The witch before him counted and stowed the coins away, returning one to him.

“Thanks,” Snufkin muttered. He left the musty shop, boots kicking up dust on the knotted floors. His pockets were heavy.

* * *

The tea tasted like dirt.

* * *

The roar of the tracks below rattled the crates beside which which Snufkin had made his camp. He climbed off at Graz, managing only a few strange looks amongst the crowd. Snufkin stuck his paws in his coat pockets, slouching to hide his growing chest; he ached too much to bind these days.

He hid in a truck bed and rode into a smaller town, not caring where he went as long as it was away from Clarens, that house, away from _him_. Through cars and carts and canters, he journeyed into the mountainous woods.

All the while, he kept feeling sicker and sicker. The simple foods he loved suddenly repulsed him, replaced by the unholy combination of pickles and peanut butter. Snufkin feared the worst.

In a secluded pond in the coniferous forests of low Germany, Snufkin stripped down to bathe. The contours of his body were fully visible to him for the first time in weeks.

He regarded his round belly in horror.

Snufkin squeezed his eyes shut, leaving his pack and clothes in a pile. He just needed to wash up and then he could wrap himself in layers and layers of woolen comfort.

Snufkin scrubbed his fur with shavings of caustic lye soap. He accidentally scratched himself once or twice. He tried to focus on to the rustling leaves, the chittering of creeps woken by the infrequent warm days, the threads of ice strung between the branches—but his mind was over-run by the tangle of stress and sickness inside of him.

Could he do this? It didn’t seem like he had much of a choice anymore. He wrapped his arms around his growing belly. He could feel himself slowly rock back and forth, the water swirling around him.

He was going to be a father, someone with lifelong obligations and a child: a child to feed and clothe and raise and teach and look after. By the stars, he was barely grown himself!

But what other options were there? He already _tried_ to get it taken care of and didn’t work—how had it not worked? The witch didn’t seem like she was lying; to the contrary, she seemed sympathetic to his predicament. Maybe he just took the herbs too late. That would figure: this whole thing was his fault. His fault that he didn’t leave a goodbye letter, that he drove the Moomins away with his callousness, that he was so reckless as to betray Moomintroll, that he didn’t have the sense to treat this faster, that he felt so hurt in the first place, that he got too attached in the first first place instead of preserving his freedom like any other self-respecting mumrik.

Snufkin tried to focus on the sensation of the water around him and not the fluttering in his stomach that showed up with growing clarity. There was a _thing_. _Inside_ of him. Snufkin felt the overwhelming urge tear open his skin and tear it out. He was sick, and hungry, and volatile, and hurting, and scared, and so, so alone. And despite all of that, a terrible part inside of him was craving the very closeness that got him into this mess. Snufkin dunked his head under the chilly March waters.

In the pond, the unfamiliar curves of his body rippled away. Though he needed alone time, he hated having to hide from every passer-by; he looked more womanly, more mymlan than ever. Snufkin broke the surface with a deep breath and pushed his hair out of his face. It was starting to get in the way.

Water dripped down his nose. He didn’t think he could so this. But, at this point, what choice did he have?

He had taken care of the woodies, if only for a few weeks. But he cared for them. They liked him. That was something, right? Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He didn’t know.

All he did know was that he wasn’t leaving it in a basket.

He needed something good in his life.

* * *

For the next month, Snufkin was a ghost of himself, focused only on eating and sleeping. His back and hips were in more pain than ever, and his travel pace had all much matched that of a snail.

* * *

In northern Poland, in a rural Moominous village with vibrantly painted buildings, the pain struck him. Absolute agony. Snufkin was no stranger to pain, but this was beyond anything he ever experienced—beyond anything he ever fathomed.

How long was he in pain? The waves started at sunset and built up higher and higher while the moon rose and set.

In the new painted light of dawn, a shrill cry emerged.

Snufkin’s body, still made of jelly, scrambled to the little creature, separating their bodies, watching their chest rise and fall with tiny lung-fulls of air.

Snufkin wrapped the tiny, tiny creature in a square of terry cloth. They were so weak, so fragile. He was scared to hold them. He scrubbed the mess off their delicate brown skin, revealing lavender fuzz on the top of their head, and miniscule stub of a tail. Snufkin’s vision swam. He held the child in their arm. With all the instant affection he carried for them, he couldn’t help but feel some sort of disconnect.

Who were they?

He cradled the stranger in his arms, pressing them against the skin on his chest. Through the haze of exhaustion and pain, he fell asleep.

* * *

One year passed. Two, three.

New names. Sisu, Pappa.

First words, first steps, first songs.

Slightly familiar birds sung slightly familiar melodies overhead. Narrow dirt paths wound to-and-fro around trees and stones and faerie rings. Snufkin held a strap of his pack. The thumb of her other paw was wrapped by little fingers.

“Where are we going, Isä?”

Snufkin squeezed his child’s fingers. “To see some old friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to google stuff about black cohosh to find out its taste and side effects and turns out people use it for PMS and menopause (it raises estrogen levels). Jeez guys please go to the doctor this herb induces miscarriage.


	2. The Witch's Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About a reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 1954

Snufkin’s paw trembled as he knocked on the knobby oak door. He curled his toes inside his boots. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Sisu hid behind Snufkin, grasping his large coat in their little paws. Snufkin didn’t feel so brave himself.

The door opened.

Alicia leaned against the door-frame, her arms crossed. Her fluffy hair fluttered under the puff of breath she let out. 

Snufkin instantly felt himself shrink under the witch’s level gaze. There were so many words running through Snufkin’s mind. _I screwed up_ , _I missed you_ , _I’m sorry_. But all he said was:

“You cut your hair.”

Snufkin closed his eyes for a few seconds, fighting the urge to cringe at the idiocy that came through his lips.

Alicia scoffed. “Hello to you too.”

Snufkin grimaced. He deserved that.

Claws pricked through his coat—Sisu clumsily climbed up Snufkin’s body. The mumrik hoisted the kit up into his arms. Sisu pressed their paw against Snufkin’s cheek. Snufkin paid them no mind.

Alicia looked into the small creature’s feline, mumrikar eyes. Her shoulders dropped.

“Oh, Snufkin,” she sighed. 

Snufkin nodded with a long blink. “Can we come in?” 

Alicia pursed her lips and gestured inside.

The house was painted in the golden light of the afternoon. Hanging glass and jewel charms dangled from the vaulted ceiling, refracting light into tiny rainbows all over. Sisu wiggled their tail and pounced on one of the colorful spots on the floor. Snufkin chortled.

Alicia poked her head around the partial wall that divided the living and dining room from the kitchen.

“Coffee?”

Snufkin nodded. “Please.” Sisu twitched at the unfamiliar figure. Snufkin laid his tail across their back. 

Alicia’s home looked the same as it as always had. Snufkin remembered helping Alicia build her cottage and move her in. He remembered stringing dried herbs up above the windows and organizing her potions and spell components on the tall shelves. She had wanted to get away from her grandmother, she said, to have more freedom. Snufkin hadn’t thought there to be a better cause in the world.

Faint clinking rang from the kitchen. Sisu’s ears flicked. Snufkin shushed them.

“It’s alright, little one. It’s just Alicia.” He swallowed. “She’s a friend.”

Alicia emerged from the kitchen holding a colorful mug and small plate lined with peach slices. She nodded towards the small dining table, where another mug already sat, and set down the new dishes. Snufkin sat across Alicia and set his child down on the chair to his right and tied on their bib from his pack. 

Sisu devoured the sliced peaches in front of them, actually managing to get some into their mouth. Snufkin chuckled even as he dreaded the bath and laundry to come.

Alicia tapped on her mug. “What’s their name?”

“Hmm?” Snufkin looked up from his kit. “Oh.”

Alicia raised a brow.

“Sisu.” Snufkin managed. “Their name is Sisu.”

“How old are they?”

“They turned two a month ago.” Snufkin took a sip of coffee. It was wonderful—Alicia always put a little magic into every-thing she made, whether it’s on purpose or not. Snufkin smiled at the familiar taste.

Alicia switched from Finnish to Karelian. “Who’s the other parent?”

Snufkin’s smile fell. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Why are you asking?” An edge grew in Snufkin’s voice.

“Just want to make sure your new life is making you happy.”

Snufkin glared. The jabs were fair and that made it all the worse. He took another sip of coffee. It didn’t taste as good this time.

Sisu finished ravaging the peaches, their entire face and sleeves and bib all covered in sticky sweetness.

Alicia wrinkled her nose at the mess. “What made you come back?”

Snufkin pointedly flicked his eyes to Sisu. “I fell into a river, a few months ago, when they were napping.” He gently scratched behind the kit’s ear. “I was lucky that the rapids were slow, but, if something happened, they would be all alone.” Snufkin let out a deep breath. “I can’t do that to them.”

Alicia nodded ever so slightly. “And why now?”

Snufkin smiled without it reaching his eyes. “A bit difficult to travel with a newborn.”

Sisu purred gently, nuzzling into Snufkin’s paw. Alicia took another sip of coffee.

“Have you seen the Moomins?”

Snufkin’s eyes fell. “Not since they left.” He stared at his coffee. Took a sip. Chewed the grounds.

“I don’t know what happened to them.” His claw skimmed over the hand-painted ceramic mug.

Alicia furrowed her brow. “Mamma and My have been here for the past two years. Moominpappa came back a few months later.”

Snufkin felt like he just swallowed a handful of talc.

The witch’s eyes softened. “Moomintroll’s been here for a year.”

Snufkin’s heart dropped into his gut. They were here. Mamma and Pappa and Little My and Moomintroll. They were all here. They had only gone on a trip. Snufkin cursed himself. They hadn’t left them; how could he think so little of them? Especially after all the leaving he did himself!

He left them. Again. Typical Snufkin, always walking out, always running away as if the ground would swallow him whole if he dared stay in place too long. And he had the audacity to be hurt by them leaving without so much as a fare-well letter. After he had done the exact same thing, Snufkin had the _gall_ to be upset—to be angry! 

In some part of his mind he was aware of how he was rocking back and forth. The mug rolled lazily across the table. Coffee pooled across the dark wooden table. It burned on his paws, but he didn’t shake it off. All he could do was sit, stiff body rocking to-and-fro. 

Sisu crawled underneath Snufkin’s arm and into his lap, snapping Snufkin into the present. They kneaded into Snufkin’s lap, their claws snagging on the ratty fabric of his coat. The muscles in Snufkin’s body relaxed against the kit’s incessant purring. He stroked their mop of lavender hair, releasing the aroma of fresh snowdrops.


	3. Moominhouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About things not going as planned

“I have to say, Mamma,” said Snorkmaiden, “these scones are incredible.”

Moominmamma’s smile filled the living room with warm light. “Thank you.”

“What’s in them, lingonberry?”

“Currants, actually.”

“They’re very good.”

Mamma was about to speak up, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Moominmamma rose from the couch. “I’ll get that.”

She opened the door.

And she saw Snufkin.

Snufkin, who she raised and thought of as her own. Snufkin, who had vanished two and a half years ago. Snufkin, who sent her son into a terrible depressive spiral. Snufkin, who stood in her door-way looking more tired than she had ever seen him.

Snufkin, who held the small paw of a child.

Mamma blinked.

“Snufkin! I, er, didn’t expect to see you.”

 _Snufkin?_ Snorkmaiden hurried to the door.

“Hullo, Moominmamma.” Snufkin chewed his lip. “It’s… nice to see you.”

Snorkmaiden saw him. He was tired. That was the first thing she noticed. He looked tired in the bone-deep way that didn’t just come from a hard day or a hard week or even a hard month. His hair was a greasy mop under his hat, he carried heavy dark bags under his eyes, his shoulders slumped as if he didn’t have the energy to stand up.

The second thing she noticed was that he was fine.

Snufkin had dropped off the face of the earth with-out so much as a “Cheerio.” And here he was, completely fine. No terrible wounds, no awful scars, no missing eyes or paws.

So what happened?

“Snorkmaiden.” He nodded.

“Snufkin.” Her voice was clipped. The mumrik held his weak smile.

A light _tap-tap-tap_ by the floor caught Snorkmaiden’s attention. When she looked down, she saw a child: a curious child, with joxter eyes, a mumrikar snout, and a mess of curly lilac hair.

“Did you take another kid when you were gone? I thought twenty-four woodies would have been enough for you.”

Snufkin bent down and picked up the kit with a grunt. “Oh, no.” He bounced them in his arms, chewing on his lip. “This is my child.”

Snorkmaiden couldn’t think to hide her surprise.

Snufkin shifted in his boots.

Mamma fidgeted with her apron. “Would you like to come in?”

“I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense.” Moominmamma smiled, different from how Snufkin remembered.

Snufkin stared at her. Didn’t move.

Mamma stepped aside with a little “Oh!” as she realized she was standing in the door-way.

The three stand in the living room, the kit in Snufkin’s arms. Moominmamma sits first, then Snorkmaiden. Snufkin isn’t offered a seat and he doesn’t ask.

Moominmamma looked to the child, genuine warmth filling her eyes the way Snufkin remembered. “What’s your name, darling?”

The child stared blankly.

Snufkin repeated Moominmamma’s question in Finnish, making strange gestures with the paw he wasn’t using to hold them.

“It’s okay, little one. She just wants to know your name.”

“They don’t know Swedish?” Snorkmaiden asked. She regretted her words immediately. Of course they didn’t know Swedish—why would they? They had never been to Moominvalley before. Snufkin hadn’t been to Moominvalley in almost three years.

Snorkmaiden switched to her stammering Finnish. “Mikä on nimesi, pikkuinen?”

The child gently grasped Snufkin’s paw and began to chew on it. Snufkin didn’t seem to notice.

“Sisu.” Their voice was soft.

“That’s a very lovely name.”

Sisu made no response.

Snufkin spoke to them, his voice in a tone which to Snorkmaiden was unfamiliarly sweet and patient. “Can you say ‘thank you?’”

“Thank you,” Sisu mumbled through their father’s paw.

“Perfect, little beast.”

Silence.

Some new footsteps.

Moomintroll emerged from the kitchen, wiping his damp paws with a tea towel.

“Okay, Mamma, I’m all done cleaning up—where are…”

Across the living room, he saw some-one he never thought he’d see again.

“… the… scones…?”

He dropped the towel.

Snufkin’s body went limp. He could barely keep standing.

“Snufkin….” Moomintroll took a step closer, his paws hesitantly reaching out.

The mumrik turned to face him.

He was holding a kid.

Moomintroll forced a laugh. “Who’s this? Another stray you’re watching?”

Snufkin pursed his lips. “Moomintroll.”

They locked eyes.

“This is Sisu. My child.”

The resemblance between them was instantly glaring: their warm brown skin, furry pointed noses, untamed loose curls. Snufkin’s tail curled around the child’s waist. His face was taut, daring every-one to say some-thing, make a snide comment.

Snorkmaiden broke the thick silent storm. “They’re very cute.”

Snufkin’s ears relaxed.

He glanced away from Moomintroll.

He opened his mouth to speak.

And again.

“Moomintroll?” he asked.

The troll hummed.

“Can—can we talk?”

No response.

“In private?”

A pause.

Moomintroll sighed. He waved Snufkin into the kitchen.

The mumrik pulled a kitchen spoon out of his pocket, the wood riddled with bite marks. He handed it to Sisu, whose eyes immediately dilated.

He turned to Snorkmaiden, pointing to the little one. “Could you…?”

The snork opened her mouth. Snufkin took at as a _yes_.

“Thank you so much.”

He picked Sisu up by their underarms and handed them over to her. Snorkmaiden held them at an arm’s length and sent a silent plea to Moominmamma, who graciously rescued her from the child.

Snufkin followed Moomintroll into the kitchen.

Moomintroll was spilling over with all the emotions he had suppressed over the past two and a half years. He had longed for Snufkin for so long—on the island, on his travels, in the valley. He had written letters while he traveled, when-ever he saw something he thought Snufkin would like—be it a beautiful ocean-scape, a meteor shower, or a union strike. He found friends, more-than-friends, and wrote about it all. He was becoming his own person, certainly, out in the world for the first time since he was little, and it was marvelous. But in the quiet moments, he longed for the mumrik’s gentle music, gentle voice, gentle touch.

He was so excited to see Snufkin after his travels, to share his stories, to go on adventures once more.

But he never came back.

So Moomintroll pushed everything away. He stopped stargazing. He tore up the letters.

And now, almost three years later, here Snufkin was.

Why had he come back? Why now? Why not three years ago? And why with a _child?_

If he was gone for so long, why bother coming back?

Moomintroll slammed the cupboard shut.

“Why are you here,” he snapped. It wasn’t a question.

“Can you please not make so much noise? I don’t want Sisu to hear.”

Moomintroll scoffed. “Of course.”

Snufkin folded his arms in front of himself. He rolled the fabric of his coat between his fingers. He knew why he came back: for Sisu. He couldn’t leave his child alone in a world where they never knew they were loved.

But Snufkin couldn’t bare that to Moomintroll, not any-more. It was too intimate. He settled for a truth more vague:

“I was raised here. I was born alone, and I was raised here.”

“And now you’ve all grown up, it seems.”

“Moomintroll…”

“Don’t ‘Moomintroll’ me.”

Snufkin held back a response. He knew this was coming; it was all he deserved.

Moomintroll shook his head. “Why _now_? Why not three years ago? What, did you get bored playing house?”

Snufkin’s temper flared. He balled his paws into fists, his claws digging into his skin.

He let out a deep breath, forced himself to keep his voice level. “I was scared.”

“Of _what_?”

“Of this—of you!” Snufkin gestured vaguely. “Of how you’d react. I knew you’d be mad—and you deserve to be! I just didn’t know how to stomach it.”

“Of course I’m mad!”

Snufkin nodded. His eyes were at his boots.

“Three years! Three years and no word, no notice, no good-bye letter. You left us. You left me.”

“You left _me_.” The words were out before Snufkin could stop them. Moomintroll was completely taken aback.

Snufkin closed his eyes for a moment. Opened them.

“I came back, the November after I left. I came back to leave a letter, to say good-bye, to say ‘I’ll see you in the spring,’… to say sorry.” Snufkin swallowed. “But you were gone. Every-one was gone.”

Moomintroll was completely dumbfounded. That didn’t stop Snufkin.

“You want to know why I didn’t come back? It’s because I didn’t know there was any-one to come back to!”

The two stared at each other, minds and breath heavy.

Snufkin broke the silence first.

“Sisu’s due for a nap.”

The mumrik left.


	4. The Campsite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About the confessions of fatherhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter one today, but it felt awkward tagged onto the next chapter so here we go.

Sisu curled up into a little ball in Snufkin’s lap, the way they always did to fall asleep these days. They were getting so big now. When they were a babe, they would sleep in Snufkin’s hat. It must have spent more time in his paws than on his head back then. 

Snufkin gently snuck his arms underneath the kit, shifting them onto the blanket nest in the tent. They hummed. Snufkin held his breath. They were so difficult to get to sleep.

Sisu stilled once more. Snufkin let out a sigh of relief.

Alicia emerged from her cottage and sat down beside Snufkin, both leaned up against a fallen tree. She handed him a mug of coffee and a katlika made from the perch he caught a few hours earlier. He held the pie in a napkin that used to be white at one point.

Snufkin breathed in the smell of the coffee, surprised to catch something sharper. He took a sip, taking pleasure in the sensation of the alcoholic vapors coating the roof of his mouth. Karelian balsam.

“I missed this,” he exhaled. 

Alicia snorted. “What, drinking?”

Snufkin shrugged. “I haven’t exactly had the luxury recently.”

The katlika was the most incredible thing Snufkin had had in ages. Something meticulously prepared, baked, and served hot. A full meal.

He hadn’t eaten anything like that in a long time.

“Thank you,” he said.

Alicia turned, speaking around the katlika in her mouth. “For what?”

“For not being mad at me.”

Alicia swallowed. “Snufkin.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m furious with you.”

Snufkin’s breath skipped. He set his half-eaten katlika down in his lap.

“Then why are you—”

“You’re my best friend.”

Snufkin didn’t understand. He didn’t pretend to.

“You left for almost three years with no good-bye.” Alicia’s voice was quiet, but her paws twitched in the way they always did when she got worked up. “I know you thought the Moomins were gone but you knew _I_ was here. And you still didn’t come back. You didn’t even send a letter.”

Snufkin watched the campfire, the little flickers growing and shrinking. 

“I’ll stand by you no matter how stupid you are—and you get very stupid.”

She turned to face him.

“But that wasn’t just stupid. It was mean.”

The cinders flew up, up, up, and away. Burned themselves out. Fell back to earth.

Alicia sighed. “I know how you feel about the Moomins. And Moomintroll.”

Snufkin didn’t have the energy or leverage to argue.

“But I thought there was more that you kept coming back to.”

Ash, like snow, piled up on the wood.

“You’re right,” Snufkin murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Alicia didn’t say anything.

“It was cruel. You’re my best friend, and I shouldn’t have assumed that I couldn’t hurt you. Because I did.”

The witch tossed another stick into the fire. Cinders burst through the flames.

“Okay.”

The fire began to eat the fresh wood.

“Who’s the other parent?”

The wood began to char. Snufkin kept silent.

Alicia’s voice lowered. “Did they…?”

“No,” Snufkin forced out. “Nothing like that.”

“Okay.”

Snufkin shifted through his memories of that winter. Of the empty house, the cold, the wanderings. How he went further south than he ever had before. How he got arrested and bailed out and invited to stay in the fields of a beekeeper.

He didn’t keep a lot of memories of his time with the Tulippen. Snufkin’s pretty sure that he only remembers his face because he sees it in his child’s.

“He was nice, I suppose. I don’t know. We only knew each other for a few weeks.” Snufkin gave an empty chuckle. “I never even learned his name.”

“So why did you do it?”

He took another sip of coffee, the heat of the drink and the alcohol warming his belly. “I wasn’t going to.”

The smoke floated into the clouds.

“I tried to get it taken care of. It just… didn’t work. Guess I was too far along already. You know how mymbles are.”

Alicia hummed.

“Why didn’t you write me? You know I would’ve helped you.”

Snufkin paused for a moment. “I was embarrassed,” he said simply. “Humiliated.”

A laugh. “I thought my-self so high-and-mighty, so clever, so infallible. Then suddenly I was nineteen years old raising a baby in the woods.”

He shook his head. “For _years_ , I tried to imagine how some-one could give up their baby—put them in a basket and send them down the river.” Snufkin stared into the fire.

“And then I had Sisu. And I loved them then and I love them now, but…”

He dug is claws into his coat. “When they were crying so hard I only had a few hours of sleep a week, when feeding them meant I had to beg for food on the street because I too weak and tired and hurt to forage, when they were the only thing keeping me from seeing this valley—a horrible part of me finally understood.”

Snufkin swallowed thick.

“And that horribleness couldn’t meet any-one else.” 

Snufkin finished his coffee. The katlika grew cold.

The fire burned.


	5. The Forest of Witches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About things that needed to be said and things that didn't

Alicia breathed deeply, the aroma of her tincture relaxing every one of her muscles. While she brewed distilled magic at the hearth, Snufkin was in the living room with Sisu, looking more undignified than she had ever seen him. He made silly faces, crawled on all fours, blew raspberries into the kit’s tummy. Alicia couldn’t help but laugh at the scene.

“Alicia?” she heard from across the room.

Snufkin looked at her while he lied prone on the floor, pretending to be tackled by Sisu. He spoke in Swedish. “Could I borrow your laundry basin later? Some-one needs a B-A-T-H tonight and my cooking pot is getting too small.”

Alicia glanced up from where she funneled the tincture from a ladle into a small glass bottle. “Sure thing, Snufkinpappa.”

Snufkin rolled his eyes, unable to stay mad while his kit bounced on his belly.

The front door opened, the bells on the door-jamb tinkling.

“Oh, great timing,” Alicia called out from the hearth, “I’m just finishing up here.”

Another one of Alicia’s clients, Snufkin realized—she had taken on the duty of local witch in between her studies, drafting spells, saging rooms, brewing potions, and the like.

“Thanks.”

At the voice, Snufkin shot up, Sisu still clinging to his shoulders.

“Moomintroll.”

Who snatched the tincture and left.

Snufkin rushed out the door.

“Moomintroll,” he called again.

The troll ignored him, kept walking.

“Moomintroll!”

He kept walking.

“Moomintroll, please just listen to me!”

Moomintroll kept walking. “Frankly, Snufkin, I don’t owe you that.”

“I _know_ that,” Snufkin hurried after the troll, pushing through his limp. “I just want to apologize.”

Moomintroll whipped around. “I don’t want to hear it.” He threw his paws up. “You have no idea what it was like for you just _drop_ me—drop everything—the moment you were the one who needed to do some waiting.

Snufkin frowned. “I know I really hurt you, but I haven’t exactly had an easy time either, Moomintroll.”

Moomintroll scoffed. “Oh, Snufkin, please, _elucidate me_.”

“Suppose you think raising a child is effortless?”

“Why _did_ you have a child, Snufkin? It hardly seems like the most responsible decision. What, were you that desperate to start your new life?”

“Why do you care so much? It’s not like we—” Snufkin clamped his jaw shut. “I have a life outside of you.”

Moomintroll laughed a heartless laugh. “And don’t I know it.”

“And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“Do you really need an answer? After all the alone time you’ve had, it’s surprising that you had a life ‘inside of’ any-body.”

Snufkin’s anger flew out of his wildly gesticulating paws. “So I’m just uncaring? Unfeeling? Is that it?”

“All I’m saying is that you dropped us pretty quick when you found some-thing better.”

Snufkin snorted, his paws on his hips.

Moomintroll pushed further: “Thinking about it, I’m worried that the moment you find some new hidden trail or shining promise of adventure you’re going to drop every-thing and leave again!” 

Snufkin’s face twisted up horribly. He growled, a sound Moomintroll had never heard before. He had never seen the mumrik so angry.

“Moomintroll.” Snufkin was a pot of boiling water with the lid bubbling off. “You can come after me all you want—I don’t care. Call me an idiot, call me cruel, say you hate me. I don’t _fucking_ care.”

Moomintroll’s stomach dropped at Snufkin’s oath.

“But you do _not_ get to tell me that I don’t love _my baby_!”

Moomintroll’s ears flattened against his head. “ _You’re_ a child!” He jabbed his finger into Snufkin’s chest.

Snufkin’s lip curled. “I never got to be a child!” He swatted away Moomintroll’s paw. “I was lost and then captured and then escaped and I lived on my own—and now I have my own kid!”

Moomintroll scoffed. “So you were always on your own? You never had any friends? Any family? Ever?”

Snufkin clenched his jaw. “I _have_ a family now. Me and Sisu—that’s a family.

“Then what were we all for? Who was I to you?” Moomintroll’s claws dug into his thick white fur.

Snufkin cocked his head. “Moomintroll.”

“Because I thought we were friends.” Moomintroll’s chest felt hollow. “You were my _best friend_ , Snufkin.”

Snufkin’s reached a horrible calmness. “Well, clearly things have changed.”

He pushed past the troll to get back to Alicia’s. Moomintroll reached out, his paw hovering inches away from the mumrik’s shoulder.

Snufkin kept walking into the witch’s yard. 

He leaned against a tree, hitting his head on the trunk.

Why did he say that? Why did he say any of that?

Moomintroll was… Snufkin had never stopped thinking of him. He would turn to the side, to make a comment about what-ever town he was in, what-ever the birds were saying, what-ever mischief Sisu was in; there was no-one to say it to.

Snufkin squeezed his eyes shut, heat still coursing through his body. He was so angry—angry at Moomintroll, furious with himself.

He ran his paws through his hair, dragged them down his face.

Opened his eyes to see Sisu, curled up on the floor, their face in their paws.

The hot anger in Snufkin’s body were crashed over with waves of guilt. 

He bent down to his kit. He plastered a small smile on his face and swallowed the bitterness on his tongue. Snufkin pat their soft head.

“Little one.” He managed to keep his voice from breaking.

The child looked up. They didn’t say anything. Their eyes were red.

Snufkin sighed in lieu of choking.

“Sisu.” Snufkin rested his paw on their shoulders. “I am so sorry you had to hear that.” He held their little chin in his thumb.

“I could never regret _anything_ that led to you coming into my life. Never.” The mumrik could feel his eyes wet as he looked into his child’s face. “I am the luckiest creature who ever existed to be blessed with you.”

The little one shook their head.

Snufkin pursed his lips. “You were a surprise, when you came to me.” He cupped their round cheek. “But don’t you ever mistake that for me not wanting you.”

He pulled Sisu into an embrace—slowly, so they could break away if they wanted. Snufkin held them as close as he dared, pressing a kiss to and stroking their tangled lavender curls. Their little paws balled into the back of his coat. Their short cervine tail wagged under their smock, the sight carving deeper and deeper swaths out of Snufkin’s heart.

“I love you, little one.”

A hum in response. _I love you too._


	6. Moominriver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Remember when the Joxter first visited? And how scary he seemed with his all his claws and fangs and his eyes? But then we realized he was just a lazy bum who kept breaking into our house?” 
> 
> Snorkmaiden nodded. 
> 
> Moomintroll held her gaze. “This time the fears are right.”

“So then when I went over the earlier chapters, I realized I had totally foreshadowed the chapter 14 twist!”

Moomintroll watched a dragonfly weave in and out of the reeds along the riverbank where he sat beside Snorkmaiden. In and out, in and out.

“… isn’t that lucky?”

“Mm-hmm.” Moomintroll was only half-listening. 

He took a deep breath. Another. In and out, in and out.

“I saw Snufkin.”

Snorkmaiden whipped around to face Moomintroll. Her face screamed, _“Don’t you dare stop talking.”_

Moomintroll rubbed his tail between his fingers. “He was at Alicia’s when my picked up my sleeping medicine.”

“So that’s where he’s been hiding,” Snorkmaiden grumbled. Moomintroll sighed.

“I got out of there as soon as I could—”

“Rightly.”

“—and he followed me outside.”

Snorkmaiden made a great expression of exasperation.

Moomintroll continued, voice low. “He said he wanted to apologize, but I just—I didn’t want to hear it.”

Snorkmaiden nodded along, her face getting more and more vicariously irritated.

“But he just kept talking and I…” Moomintroll waved his paws. Dropped them. “We got into this huge fight.”

Snorkmaiden raised a brow. “Well it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Not like this,” said Moomintroll. “We’ve had troubles. We’ve disagreed. But nothing like this.”

Moomintroll looked to his friend.

“Remember when the Joxter first visited? And how scary he seemed with his all his claws and fangs and his eyes? But then we realized he was just a lazy bum who kept breaking into our house?”

Snorkmaiden nodded.

Moomintroll held her gaze. “This time the fears are right.”

Snorkmaiden’s face darkened. Purple and gray flit through her fur.

“He’s so… different.” Moomintroll shook his head. “I’ve never seen him so angry.”

Moomintroll thought back to all of the little arguments he’s seen Snufkin get into: bickering with Little My, lectures to Sniff, his annual troubles about his hibernal departure. But never had the troll seen Snufkin lose his temper. He always had a level head. He never boiled over.

But this? Today? Moomintroll saw something new—something mean and feral and horrible.

Snorkmaiden scoffed. Scarlet flickered in her golden-white fur.

Moomintroll furrowed his brow. “Snorkmaiden?”

“I don’t even know why you care,” she huffed. “He _left_ us. You saw him—he’s got a whole new life now. What-ever he’s here now for, it doesn’t matter. It’s not like he’s going to stay.”

Moomintroll absently hummed, poking the silty ground with a stick.

Snorkmaiden pushed his shoulder. “You were so torn up about him. Remember when you had your first date with Mille? You were so hung up that you couldn’t even kiss them!”

Snorkmaiden deepened her voice in a facsimile of her friend’s. “Oh, what would Snufkin think? What if he comes back and I’m seeing some-one? What if he gets hurt? What if he rejects me?”

Moomintroll’s ears drooped. Snorkmaiden could read him to a T and while he appreciated it, he rarely enjoyed it.

“What if, what if, what if.” Snorkmaiden dug her paws into the sandy riverbank. Her face grew sour. “That kid of his is, what, two years old? Suppose he moved on pretty quick.”

Moomintroll sighed but let her be. Snorkmaiden may have been harsh but she did have a point. Snufkin had never tried to see him, never tried to contact him. Coming back from his travels, Moomintroll half-expected a massive stack of letters all tied up in twine.

But nothing.

And how soon after seeing Moominhouse empty did Snufkin see some-one?

Moomintroll supposed Snufkin was free to see whom he pleased, but something deep in his skin itched about it. He really thought there was some-thing between them. There were so many moments between them, so many _almosts_ : almost pet names, almost touches, almost confessions, almost kisses. Moomintroll had sworn spring and fall and spring again that he would confess to Snufkin, tell him how much he cared for him.

Did any of that matter to Snufkin?

Had he felt the same way?

Had he not?

Moomintroll didn’t know which was worse.

He sighed. “I suppose you’re right.”

* * *

Stars peered through the dusky sky. Crickets bowed their fiddles. Creeps rustled and nightjars churred. Beneath them, Snufkin sat on the soft earth, back pressed against a fallen tree, as he absently reheated pot of fish stew on the campfire. 

Across the campsite, Sisu slept in the tent, curled up in their ratty knit wool blanket. Their curls frame their face in a lavender crown. They purr gently in their nest.

Snufkin sighed, finally able to release the tension in his body. With his child asleep, his mind had space free to realize how much he was hurting. He felt like he walked for twenty miles: his fingers burned, his back was squashed, and the tendons in his knees and feet felt about to snap,

Snufkin slowly wrapped strips of frayed calico, compressing his terribly aching feet and knees before buddy taping his pointer finger to his middle to hold it straight. The joints throbbed under the pressure of the bandages.

He breathed the crisp night air deep into his lungs.

His fingers itched to play his harmonica. He used to serenade the forest all through the night, accompanying the crickets and owls.

Instead he fidgeted with the wooden spoon. It was covered in bite marks. He couldn’t afford to wake Sisu.

Snufkin watched his child sleep, their chest rising and falling, just to be sure of them. They quietly sneezed. Snufkin’s chest ached, filled with adoration.

They really were the most remarkable creature on Earth.

If only Snufkin could have met them later.

If only he could become a father when he was grown, when he had friends, a safe port to return to, a companion to parent with.

He stirred the pot of fish stew on his campfire, sitting in this semblance of solitude in which he could rarely indulge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give my sincere thanks to everyone who read this. I'm so grateful to you all.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr @smooth-goat


End file.
